Thursday, November 19, 2009

it's [not] my funeral

Andrew found a new and strange mole on my back last night.  I decided not to panic and didn't panic.  I booked a doctor's appointment.  Very mature.

But it would have been a shame to have let such a thing pass without a little drama.  While lifting weights this morning and marvelling at how well I was feeling (considering that I was dying of skin cancer) I planned my funeral.  I was wondering who would show up.  Would you, blog friend?  (Good to know, for catering purposes...)

It seems, though, that I probably don't have cancer just now. 

Oh well.

4 comments:

  1. 7 years ago a school friend died suddenly (I don't know if the coroner ever worked out what killed her). I remember thinking about what songs I wanted at my funeral. I expect I'd probably want something different now.

    Last year when I found that I have the same mitral valve problem as Dad and face surgery in 5 years or so I had Nicky Chiswell's "Teach us to number our days" in my head. I still need that teaching.

    Now I consider things like, if I don't make it through the op, I hope that my passing brings at least one of my unsaved loved ones into God's Kingdom. That (apart from the fact that I'll already be partying) would be worth the trauma for me.

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  2. I'd be there in a flash, Simone.

    Funnily enough, E asked me the night before last if I wanted her to book me in at the docs for this unusual shape-shifting mole I've got going. Being me, I said, aww, nah, that's okay... maybe another time..

    EETZ NAHT A TOOOMAH!

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  3. As a teenager, I went through a time of wondering who would come to my funeral.

    After actually spending some time in ICU I prefer not to think about.

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  4. I would have 'The trumpet shall sound' from Handel's Messiah.

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